The Goatslayer
by Jack Hargreave
Summary: The Dragonborn is famous for many heroic deeds, but some deeds are not as accepted as others, and one loyal housecarl fears the impact on Skyrim's most gentle inhabitants; the goats.


**A/N: This is a story envisioned by my brother while he was playing Skyrim after I made a comment about his… attitude towards some of the gentler creatures in Skyrim and gave him an appropriate nickname. He can't write for shit though, so I write this instead, hope you like it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skyrim.**

**Many thanks to harmoniedusor for a wonderful review and some great tips, I've embraced them and implemented them into the story. Thanks again! **

**The Goatslayer**

Lydia had seen many strange things in her rather short life, some of them stranger than others. But that was life in Skyrim, it tended to be short, and could end in the most abrupt way. A civil war didn't help either. However, she was a warrior and had been since young age; death was a constant companion, she had reconciled with that long ago.

Clearing out dens of bandits or wandering monsters was normal work for her, and she was used to spending entire weeks patrolling the tundra at times, but nothing could have prepared her for her journey with the Dragonborn, the last hero using the ancient words of power.

She had been honored when the Jarl chose her to be the Dragonborn's housecarl, though she was more than a little disappointed that he hadn't turned out to be a powerful Nord warrior like those from the ancient tales. The Imperial she had been ordered to serve hadn't disappointed her with his skill in the various arts of combat, and she owed him her life for more than a few instances when their numerous enemies had gotten the better of her.

She had seen nearly all of Skyrim with her constantly traveling companion, vanquished great foes and made a name for herself worthy any of the ancient tales. She was the famous companion of a living legend, an unprecedented hero since the Oblivion crisis. No Nord warrior could ask for more.

But her thane had one odd habit which she knew she couldn't look past for much longer. She suspected it was connected to his general restlessness and/or maybe some aggression towards his chosen preys… his chosen victims.

Goats!

She hadn't taken much notice of it in the beginning; what, she couldn't imagine the pressure the Dragonborn had to endure with having the fate of the world forced onto his shoulders while half of Skyrim seemed to want anything that moved dead.

The first incident had happened on the tundra to the south-west of Whiterun. The two of them had decided to hunt down a group of bandits who had been tormenting travelers for some time. The plan was to find them, kill them and then proceed towards the Throat of the world, but the gang had already been killed off by some would-be-hero who called himself _the Ebony Warrior_.

She hadn't thought much of it, other warriors claimed bounties all the time. The Dragonborn had however not been amused. They had just begun their journey towards the woodlands in the south when they met a local farmer who traversed the tundra alone with a goat. He had quickly explained his intentions to give it to a giant in order to keep it away from his livestock.

The Dragonborn had however fixed the goat with his eyes and handed his purse to the farmer without moving his eyes away from the animal. "Buy a new one", he had simply said.

Lydia had tried to protest. There had to have been at least a thousand's worth of gold in that purse. Her thane had not listened and simply kept staring at his new pet while the much richer farmer left with an amused expression.

She had been genuinely surprised when the goat's new owner gathered his breath and used his _Dragon Shout_ on the poor creature. "Fus!" The goat had flown a good twenty meters before it ended up in a small pond where it stayed on dinner with a mudcrab… permanently.

She didn't know how many goats had lost their lives during the following journey; her thane had simply shouted at every goat that crossed his way, even many who were nowhere near their path. She could still remember the six docile creatures he had shouted down the mountain as they climbed the throat of the world to see the Greybeards.

It hadn't gotten better as he learned new _Shoats_, especially the snow shout which encased them in blocks of solid ice.

It had seemed pretty harmless at first, seeing as he only killed wild goats without an actual owner who'd protest and send the guards on them.

But then he started to _Shout_ at goats near the farmsteads, killing the farmers' livestock and property. He'd always pay the farmers in advance, probably many times their actual worth, but their previous owners would always stare at the Dragonborn… and Lydia as if they were mad. He didn't even take the meat or the hide to salvage at least a fraction of the money he spent on goats.

But money wasn't something she was worried of. They had made quite the fortune from their adventuring and not even the goatslaying could diminish that.

The goatslaying was in itself the cause of her worries. They had seen less and less goats for the last few months; her thane had spent an entire week searching for goats to kill until they had found one in the misty Reach in the western mountains.

That was when the Ebony Warrior had made his return and challenged the Dragonborn to a fight to death.

Lydia felt somewhat relieved. She prayed to every god in Nirn and deity… and even most of the Deadra that the ensuring battle would be the end of the goatslaying. It had started with the Ebony Warrior after all, and one final confrontation with the supposed rival could maybe put a stop to it.

They were well on their way to the chosen place to fight when they stopped at Vilemyr Inn at Ivarstead for the night. It was a good change of pace from the dirty roads, wet forest, the cold tundra… and the goatslaying.

The Dragonborn was listening to a pretty bard singing songs of his great deeds and heroic quests while Lydia tried to think about anything but those damn _goats_.

But her worries wouldn't leave her for one simple reason; there were hardly any goats left in all of Skyrim! They had slowly been killed off, often _en masse_ by her thane and were now a rarer sight than a dragon. And she wasn't the only one who noticed. The farmers didn't call her thane the Dragonborn anymore. He wasn't even a hero to them. He was the goatslayer! People who had bred and raised goats as their livestock had lost their main source of food and coin, and the money the Dragonborn had paid them was hardly enough to feed their families for a longer time without an income. The economy of the entire country had been affected, and more than a few didn't look at the Goatsla… Dragonborn with kind eyes.

Lydia then heard the bard start singing another of her thane's favorites.

"_Our hero, our hero…"_

_Hmm, weren't there a lot more guests then normal tonight?_ Lydia counted at least two dozen patrons which were odd considering how poor and small the village was.

"_Claims a warrior's heart"…_

Lydia doubted that many of them were locals. She couldn't place their faces among the populace, but they all looked _very_ familiar. And why were they so quiet? Everyone seemed to stare at the bard and the Dragonborn… or glare in their general direction.

"_I tell you, I tell you"… _

Yes, the patrons weren't locals. They didn't have the same build as the people living at the mountains. They looked like farmers. But why were they armed?

"_The Goatslayer Comes…"_

Wait, what? Lydia gasped as all of the patrons rose as one and moved to encircle her thane, all while they had begun chanting. "Goatslayer, Goatslayer, Goatslayer!"

The Dragonborn didn't seem to mind (or notice), but Lydia guessed that was natural after a few hundred blows to the head. She sighed and stood up after she emptied her mug of mead.

"…I'm sworn to carry your burdens."

**Well, I am a bit rusty, and I admit my English isn't the best, but I hope it was enjoyable to read. **

**I would have laughed so much if this had happened in the game. No one would've seen it coming. **

**Please leave a review since it helps me improve (constructive ones are appreciated). **

**Cheers!**


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